No Man’s Land

by Katie Beviss

The knuckles on my hands
ripped-
like the top of barbed wire fence,
separating my land and yours.
My body an overbearing sand-dune
dusty, grey shanty towns;
aligned on the crevice of my stomach.
My foundations;
each bone laid out like a row of graves.
The curve of my back;
an Iraqi road
split to ash-
avenged by bombs.
The ticking of time running out;
crackling in the air.
My teeth
-broken artefacts of a life
I can hardly remember.
Waking to the splinter of shrapnel
pounding like my heart beat.